A Day At The Fair
by bruisedbatgirl
Summary: Stephanie and Dick decide their family needs a little bonding. And somehow, they convince everyone to go. Fluff ensues.
1. The Decision

There were a few traditions in the Bat-clan, but none of them were any fun.

Well, some of them were entertaining. The tradition of Barbara and Dick trying to figure out what the other had done for their birthdays and anniversaries was sweet. Inviting everyone over for a round of Mario Kart was another good one. Jason was forced to join, of course. It was especially fun when they could convince Bruce to join in-watching the Dark Knight get frustrated over being blue-shelled was hilarious. But otherwise, the traditions were all about work and vengeance and all that boring stuff.

So Stephanie wanted to do something fun.

It wasn't entirely her idea, to be fair. She was out on patrol with Damian and Dick, monitoring a hotspot for bad guy activities. A small alleyway by the port that was shaded even on sunny afternoons. The bricks were all crumbling, and rickety trucks filled with oddly shaped boxes were always driving through. And usually it smelled oddly like sulfur, rather than just garbage.

Villains were kind of predictable sometimes.

"You think it's Joker this time?" She asked.

Damian snorted, as if she said something absurd. "It's going to be Mr. Freeze."

"Why not Joker?"

"Because the shipments we're monitoring were all under intense refrigeration. If you knew anything about transportation, maybe you'd understand what we're doing."

"You just love being a smart-ass, don't you?" She responded dryly.

He smirked arrogantly back. Not quite a smile. That wasn't the Wayne style, after all. "It's a perk of always being right."

Dick interrupted the two before they could start bickering. Lord knows they would have. Not with any malice-Steph liked to think that they were close. But after hours of monitoring with no leads was making everyone antsy. "I think we should take a day off sometime."

Both of them dropped their binoculars, looking over at him like he said they should start using machine guns. He shrugged back.

"Just an idea," he said, looking back at the alleyway. Still nothing. Then his eyes flashed over them again, a playful smile on his face. "We've been in a rut."

"Doesn't that mean we should work harder?" Damian asked, genuinely confused.

Oh, that's what was so upsetting about that kid. She was about to respond with something clever and cutting, surely, but then she stopped. He didn't ask with any snark. Nor did he have any reason to pander to them. It may have sounded simple, unimportant, but Steph knew better. She could hear the meaning behind that.

What he really was saying was "I had never taken a break in my twelve years of existence". The very idea of needing a vacation baffled him.

Boy, at some point he was going to burn out. Hard.

"Nah, sometimes we heroes need breaks. Live a little, will ya?" She pulled his hood over his eyes, smiling.

He scowled before pulling away, perfecting the placement of his yellow hood once again. "I don't need breaks! I'm supposed to become Batman, you know!"

"It'd be fun, baby bat." Dick said, grinning over at him.

"Where should we go?" Steph was already starting to get excited. Not just for Damian-she was thrilled to have a break for herself. Maybe they could be out in the sunlight for once. "There's all sorts of fun stuff around the city."

"It's gotta be really special. Otherwise we can't convince the others to go."

The two of them were silent, thinking as they checked the alleyway once again. It was as empty as their minds, unfortunately. Mr. Freeze and his lackeys were more patient than they get credit for. She imagined going to the beach, with Cass and Timmy and even Bruce. Or maybe they'd all go to a museum of some sort. Bruce would definitely spring for that, but then it would just feel like school. Of course, they could also go-

"How about the state fair?"

Dick and Steph turned to Damian. His offer wavered in the air as he stared down at the alley. There was a slight blush in his cheeks, making him look like a kid, for once.

But being childish and wanting to go to the fair was unacceptable to him, apparently. He quickly added, "It's an entertainment source. It only happens for one week, making it necessary to go for emotional satisfaction. It would have enough variety in entertainment to keep everyone happy without any annoying arguments. And it is happening next month. Is there any more convincing I need to do?"

She couldn't stop smiling. Dick glanced at her, a slight grin playing at his lips. They knew what he meant. It would be fun for everyone. Even him.

"Sure thing, Robin." Dick said, coughing to keep down his beaming grin. "Let's do that."

If Dick agreed, that meant it was a go.

She put her arm around him. "Good idea, mister detective."

"Quit it-you guys are acting weird," he answered, squirming away once again.

Before they could laugh and coo over the little maniac, there was noise from down below. A truck with Mr. Freeze's current pseudonym on the side. With, as Damian told her, heavy refrigerating machinery in the back.

Bingo.

"You were right," she said, pulling her grappling hook out. "Let's go kick some frozen ass."


	2. Breakfast of Champions

None of the Bats were morning people.

Stephanie was excited enough in the morning to pull herself together and get ready for the big day ahead. When she was young, the fair had to be her favorite event of the summer. She remembered feeling like a normal kid with a normal family, planning the best strategy to go on the best rides all day. Her mom would take her on the scary roller coaster, holding her hand the whole time. Then they'd eat all the fried foods they could get their hands on. She wanted something like that for her second family.

But she was probably the only one excited. When she arrived in the cave, she realized it was like any other morning to the rest of the vigilantes.

Tim and Damian were sprawled out on a cot, having fallen asleep while arguing, most likely. Bruce was still staring at the computer screens with his fingers steepled. He might have fallen asleep with his eyes open. You could never tell with him. Barbara was drooling on her computer desk. The place was almost silent.

To be fair, they weren't all business and sleep. Dick was in the kitchen area, humming and making himself coffee. She could hear Cassandra in the gym room, grunting and punching something. And Alfred, the sweetheart, was coming down the stairs with a big tray of fruits and oatmeal.

"Hey Al," she said, dropping her bag on the floor.

He smiled at her. "Hello, Miss Brown. I suppose you're here for the fair."

"Yeah. It's always good to go early, after all."

Dick turned from the kitchen, two mugs in hand. He was practically bouncing with energy. "Hey, Steph. They'll be waking up soon. I got them to bed as soon as I could. Coffee?"

"Thanks." She took a cup from him.

Then he turned around, going back to the big pot of coffee he made. He pulled the lid off and set up a fan next to it on the counter. He called out in a loud and clear voice, "Wake up, we've got coffee."

Amazingly, that's all it took. You could practically see the scent flowing from one person to another. Tim and Damian were awake, then Barbara was stretching in her chair, then the big man himself was walking over. Even Cassandra poked her head out of the gym, scurrying over silently to grab a mug.

Caffeine was truly their family's drug of choice.

"Remind me to never fall asleep while working," Barbara groaned, rolling over to them. "My back hurts like a sonofabitch."

"It's a bad habit to get into." Bruce agreed, almost scolding.

She was never intimidated by him. She readjusted her glasses as she started pouring. "Pot, kettle."

Cassandra was covered in sweat. How she managed to exert herself so much in the early morning was a mystery to Steph. "Is there really fried butter at the fair?"

"Probably. Americans are disgusting." Damian tried to take a cup of coffee from Babs, who pulled it away from him.

"Sorry, kiddo, you're not tricking me. I know it stunts your growth."

"But that isn't fair! Everyone else gets coffee!" He pouted like a baby. "Why do I need height anyway? I'm aerodynamic."

Steph laughed. "Imagine trying to get a date by describing yourself as aerodynamic."

He scowled over at her, but it was clouded with sleepiness. He wasn't going to scare anyone before noon, at least.

Tim walked over to her, giving her a peck on the cheek. "This was a great idea," he said, smiling a little. "Is Jay coming?"

Dick rolled his eyes. "I didn't give him a choice. He's just meeting us there. Apparently he wants us to not find out where he's staying in the city."

"Third street, in the basement of the laundr-o-matic." Bruce looked up at them, smirking a little. "But I figured he wants his independence, so let's pretend we don't know."

"You got it, boss," Steph answered with a grin.

She liked moments like these. Gathering in the kitchen, everyone bantering and being friendly... Even if it was a rarity in their grim lives, it sure gave them all something to hang onto. And with everything they've seen, all the danger of their lives, these moments brought them together, tighter than ever. They truly were a family.

And that's why they needed a day off.


	3. Along For The Ride

"They say The Drop is bigger than the Wayne Tower." Damian said with a big eye roll.

Steph grinned, leaning over the seat to look at the boys in the back. Bruce wanted everyone to take individual town cars. Dick managed to convince him that a big van would be better. So he bought the most expensive. Apparently they sell luxury minivans. Who knew?

Babs got shotgun, since she was good at directions. Cass and Steph sat in the front row, spread out as Steph read magazine articles aloud to her. Tim and Jason sat together in the middle row, with the back holding big and little D. Which was the best organization, considering they all would kill each other if they crammed together in one row.

"I've fallen off that thing a million times," Steph said. "It won't scare me."

Damian smirked. "Of course you have. Because you truly have no grace."

That made Steph roll up her magazine and stretch over the seat to smack him. He pouted, ducking easily. "Watch yourself, kid. I know you've fallen off it too."

"Psh, I certainly have not."

Tim piped up from the middle, "What about that time when you got pushed off by Harley?"

"Drake, I swear I will kill you if you say one more word." The venom in his voice was adorable.

Bruce called back, "No threatening death."

He pouted and shouted, "But Drake was being rude to me!"

That made Jay roll over. His head was in Tim's lap and he had spent the past ten minutes snoring. "All of you shut the hell up!"

"You hear that? Todd needs his precious beauty sleep." The boy snorted and added, "as if it would help."

"Why do you only use last names?" Stephanie wondered, moving on in the conversation.

Before the kids could start chattering again, Babs shouted, "We're almost there!"

Everyone cheered at that. Even Bruce made a loud, relieved sigh.

The rest of the trip was easy. For Steph and everyone in the back, that is. At some point Bruce took a wrong turn and Barbara and him argued about this. Bruce claimed he knew the way better than any damn GPS, and Dick leaned over to tell the two of them that either way, they were getting close.

"How can you tell?" Babs asked. She was facing forward, but you could hear the eye-roll in her voice.

He laughed a little. "C'mon, I'm a circus boy. I can smell carnivals for miles."

As if destiny heard Dick Grayson's confidence and changed for him, signs for the fairgrounds started to crop up. They pulled into one of the parking lots, which was already filling to the brim with people and trucks.

Once the ignition was turned off, Bruce turned around. He looked more like a dad than usual. Instead of his traditional suit, he was wearing a light button down and khaki pants. His hair wasn't even slicked back-just brushed down, the gray at his temples more prominent. It was unnerving to Steph. It was like seeing a graceful swan flopping around on land.

"Alright, everyone has synchronized alarms on their phones, correct?"

They all did the check. The high-tech phones were all set to ring at the same time for regrouping. Hers was set perfectly.

"Good. We meet at the entrance before getting lunch together at thirteen hundred hours. And again at seventeen hundred before the circus performance on the main stage. Each of you have two hundred dollars. Do not overeat, get heat stroke, or get lost. Drink water frequently. Use sunscreen. If you need help, there is an alert button on your phones and the nearest member of our unit will be ready to assist. Be responsible."

Dick, always knowing best, added, "And have fun!"

They all poured out of the vehicle at that.

Steph jumped out into the sunshine. It was much brighter than behind the tinted windows. She immediately pulled out her purple sunglasses and stretched with a big yawn. It was a long drive. But after long car rides, the fresh smell of grass and the light breezes were always even more delightful.

As the rest of the group pushed out, she hung back. She couldn't help but count heads, making sure they were all okay. It was her plan anyway. If it didn't work out, it was on her. Not that trips to the fair usually ended in horror. But there was a first for everything, right?

Damian was the last out of the car. He had his hands shoved in his pockets and scowled at her. "What do you want, Fatgirl?"

"You know, I think I prefer last names." She smiled. "You wanna go on The Drop?"

His eyes widened for a moment before he scoffed. "I'm not going on that baby ride."

"Aw, you couldn't stop talking about it!"

"Shut up! That was just because I thought it was stupid."

She couldn't stop grinning. The others had started walking, but she wanted the little boy to have a fun time. He didn't have enough of those.

"Well, can you go with me? It's too scary for me to go alone."

He blinked and looked over her face. Clearly he was judging whether or not she had an ulterior motive. Which she did. But he liked being considered tougher than her too much to pass it up. And clearly, he did want to go. Even the most psychopathic want to have fun at the fair. "You are too much of a child, Brown."

"You _are_ a child."

"I am more mature than most adults!"

"Yeah yeah." She smiled. "Let's get the party started, shall we?"


	4. Cassandra's Interlude

**A/N: Hi guys! Thank you for reading so far! I hope to finish this story within the next week or so. It's going to be a trip from here on out, believe me. Please comment, it fuels me!**

Cassandra was a lot of things. A fighter, a genius, an ex-assassin, to name a few. But she was definitely _not_ a people person.

And the funny thing about the state fair, which she probably should have expected, was that it was full of people. All kinds of people. They weren't just people-everyone was a wide-eyed tourist. It wasn't like traveling in the streets of Gotham, where everyone knows where they're going and wandering around is scoffed at. And everyone was either really old or really young, or attached to a member of either group.

So she hung close to Barbara's side.

Barbara knew better than to question Cass, which she was grateful for.

"You know, if you want to go on the coasters, you should go with Steph." She finally said as they roamed past a big sign.

Cass took a second to look at the sign, reading the colorful letters in a deliberate manner. Arcade. What was an arcade?

But then she turned back to her friend. "Are you not going?"

"Nope." She tapped her wheels before pushing forward again. "No space for my ride."

"Oh." Her voice was laced with guilt for asking.

But Barbara didn't mind at all. She waved Cass off, saying, "I never really liked them, anyway. Fake danger is boring after seeing the real thing."

She nodded, not quite understanding. But 'not quite understanding' was her neutral position in situations like this.

They had to go through the arcade pavilion before heading towards the food and animals. It was strange, similar to what she would see in one of Joker's traps. Even if it was out in the sunshine, each booth looked like a different room. Bright reds, blues, and greens covered everything. Each stall had a big sign and animals or toys pinned to the sides. And everything was lit with colored bulbs, despite being the middle of the day. It was so festive it seemed almost dangerous.

"...the big striker?"

She looked around. Someone seemed to be asking her a question. A man was staring at her. He had a big smile on his face, but it was clearly well-practiced. He was a very round man, with a slouchy stature and reddened neck from the heat.

"Did you hear me? Do you speak English?"

The way he asked that bothered her. Slow, enunciating, as if she was a baby. And even if she wasn't exactly a master at the language, he shouldn't have just guessed that.

"What's going on?" Barbara asked, stopping when she realized Cass was still staring at the man. She watched him as well.

"Just asking your friend if she wanted to try her hand at the The Big Striker." Then he leaned against the machine, which was like a giant ruler. Except the measurements were things like 'wowza!' and 'super manly tough!', and lightbulbs on the two sides that went from yellow to red. There was a giant mallet resting on one side, and a button in front of it.

He continued, "What do you say, little lady? Care to try your hand? The only person who beat this game was a circus strong-man. But hey, I bet you could knock his score off the board. You get a jumbo prize if you reach the red!"

That must have referred to the highest lights on the machine. There were only three rows of those, as opposed to the orange and yellow, which had seven and ten, respectively. And there was a large bell at the very top.

"Ugh, let's go." Barbara said, rolling her eyes.

Cassandra put a hand on her shoulder. "No." She smiled slyly at her. "He said I might beat it."

She pushed her glasses up and nodded, smirking back. "Sure, try your luck."

That was all the blessing she needed.

The man took her hundred-dollar bill, fumbling to make change. Meanwhile, she picked up the mallet and examined it. It was a big but lightweight tool, completely made of wood with a long handle. Which must have been intended to make it difficult to get a good center of balance. The button had scuff marks around the edges. Difficult to hit it straight on, making the sensitivity to the mallet weaker.

Incredibly simple. Get enough momentum to hit the target, hit dead-on. It wasn't a strength test, not really. Not that such a thing would be possible with basic tools such as the ones she was looking at.

She lifted the mallet, stretching it all the way up in the air. That got a nervous comment from the man, but she didn't notice. Her eyes were focused on the button, measuring distance necessary. She leaned back, poised tightly like a bowstring.

Then she swung down, hitting it expertly.

The sound of the bell rang in her ears before she could look up.

Barbara cheered as the bell chimed again and again. People turned around, looking at her in awe.

She dropped the hammer, smiling sheepishly. Then she turned to the man, who was staring at her in shock.

"Could I get the dinosaur?" She asked, as if nothing happened.


	5. Fear And Boy Bands

"Let's get some food!" Stephanie said, her eyes lighting up at the very idea.

Damian crossed his arms. He may have just entered his teen years, but he was already a master of the art. Of course. "I thought you needed me to hold your hand through The Drop?"

"Later. You haven't had fried food on a stick, have you?"

"I really don't want to change that." He smirked like an arrogant little ass. "And I'm sure you don't want to be even fatter."

She smacked him upside the head. "You never comment on a lady's weight!"

Jason, Dick and Tim walked past them. The dark-haired boys looked like a nineties boy band, with their baggy jeans and brightly colored tank-tops. Not to mention they all had the same ruffled hair style, just different lengths. With a streak of white in Jay's of course. They'd probably have songs like "Robin Your Heart". Steph would definitely own that album.

Dick spotted them, his eyes lighting up. He started to jog toward them, shouting, "Hey!"

"What are you doing, Grayson?" Damian answered sharply.

The other two were walking over. Jason still looked sleepy. "Calm down, kid, we're not gonna ruin your date."

"Date?!"

Tim burst into laughter, and Steph had to bite down on her lip to keep from joining in. The alarmed look on his face and creeping blush was just too amusing. It was like he was just told he wasn't wearing pants.

"Be nice to the baby bird," Dick cooed, punching Jay in the shoulder.

"We're going to The Drop. You guys want to come with?" Steph asked, still grinning.

Dick shook his head. "Sorry, I'm checking out the circus. Taking a trip down memory lane. Hopefully I'll run into some old friends."

"Boring." Jason ran a hand through his hair. "Tim and I are going to the food court. Fried food helps with hangovers, right? Or was it sugary food? Either way, we'll find it there."

Tim turned to Jay, his voice high with accusation. "You're hungover?"

"I didn't know we were coming!" He raised his hands in defense.

"We've been planning this for a month! How could you forget?!"

Steph took a deep breath. Knowing those two, they were going to be bickering through the rest of the day. She put her hand on Damian's shoulder and started walking. "We'll see you guys later! Don't kill each other!"

Jason called back, "Like you two can talk!"

"Yeah, yeah," Damian muttered to her. "I bet they won't last five minutes."

"We're betting? Okay. I bet they'll last until the show tonight without getting into a fight." She smiled over at him. He wasn't shrugging her hand off his shoulder, which felt like progress.

He looks up at her, smirking a little. "Fine. If I win, you have to be silent for an entire patrol."

"Pulling out the big guns, huh?" She let out a breath, thinking. "Fine. If I win, you have to eat the worst fried snack I can find. The whole thing."

That made him shudder. "Deal."

They had reached the ride area. Which was full of lines, as she expected. Especially for The Drop, which had what looked like a mile of rebellious teenagers waiting for a turn to show how tough they were. Which, to be honest, they must have been.

It was a big, rickety thing. Painted in bright red and yellow stripes that made it look fast, it sure did seem intimidating. Not to mention it was too tall to see the top of, even after craning her neck as far back as possible. It looked bigger than the Wayne Tower. Maybe that was just the fact that it was the only tall thing for miles, not surrounded by other skyscrapers. But it didn't matter the reason. The ride was meant to be scary, and by god, that worked.

"Pfft. This ride is for children."

"Actually, anyone under the age of ten isn't allowed on it." She looked at him, grinning cheekily. "Let's hope they don't find you out."

He rolled his eyes. "Keep your mouth shut. Otherwise they will realize you are as mature as a five year old."

"Yeah, but I'm tall. You're not."

"Brilliant deduction." He scowled. "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is rolling in his grave, because you have just beat Sherlock in detective work."

She beamed back. "Your insults are too long. At least 'Fatgirl' was to the point."

The two of them continued to hurl insults like batarangs. But without any anger behind them. It was just a way to pass the time. Even if they received funny stares from the people around them. That wasn't exactly unusual for the batkids. At least after a couple good burns, Steph got high fives from the teens in front of them.

Finally, they reached the front of the line. They found seats next to each other, pulling the lap-bar down. There was a crowd of people, mostly moms with their cameras at the ready to take a picture of their children going on the ride of death.

The ride worker checked everyone's belt, making sure no one was trying to go without the proper safety measures. But she was a cute, clean, blonde girl, hardly the kind of person you'd imagine working as a carny. And each person got specific attention rather than a precursory scan. Which, Steph realized, might be why the line was so long.

"You okay, hun?" She said to Damian. "You look sick!"

Steph turned to her partner, who was actually looking terrified. The black of his hair was a shock against his ashen white face. He held onto the bar on his lap as if he was trying to strangle it. She could even see the gleam of sweat on his forehead against the sunlight.

He had jumped from insane heights, faced certain death, and battled against the most horrible things one could imagine. All before being legally allowed to drive. But a carnival ride was what struck fear in his heart.

"'m fine. Start the damn ride," he said tersely.

"Well, if ya say so," she answered, doubt lingering in her voice.

Then the woman continued doing checks down the line, instructing them not to be stupid in various ways. Steph tuned it out and looked at Damian, who now had two red blotches on his cheeks.

She wiggled her arm out around the belts, taking his. Making her best look of utter fear, she said, "Thank god you came with me. I've never been able to go on this ride. Too scary."

He looked over at her, tutting disdainfully. At least that helped him collect himself. Nothing like acting as the damsel in distress to help a boy's wounded ego. He looked relieved that he wasn't the only one.

"As you rightfully should be." He smirked slightly. "After all, there have been over a hundred deaths on this ride."

"There was _what_-" Her heart dropped in her chest, eyes widening in horror.

Then they swooshed up in the air.


	6. Tim's Interlude

Dealing with a hungover Jason Todd was like being placed on jury duty and they only went over parking tickets. Like being at a football game when the team you're rooting for is losing miserably and it's still the first quarter. It was like being hungover yourself, without any of the inebriation beforehand. It was like-

"You better be makin' a decision on what to order and not internally monologuing." Jason jeered, a little too on-point, elbowing him in the ribs.

Tim wished he was with Stephanie at that point.

He crossed his arms. "I just want a soda."

"I'm pretty sure they sell beer. Wouldn't you rather get beer?"

"Aren't you already hung over?"

"You know what they say," he said with a grin. "Hair of the dog, all that."

He scoffed. Jason Todd was good at plenty of things (Tim was sure he had to be good for /something/, after all), but biology was not one of them. "No. That will alleviate the symptoms for now and make them worse later. Carbonated drinks will attack the acetaldehydes in your system, which is what gives you the headaches and stomach-pain in the first place."

"Huh." Jay seemed impressed by the knowledge, probably planning to put it to use for the rest of his weird life. "You don't say."

"Also, I'm still underage." That part was much less impressive, but still just as scientifically accurate.

That made him laugh and throw his arm around Tim. "Then two sodas it is! And curly fries."

As soon as he made the decision for the two of them, it was their turn to order. Sometimes Tim was baffled by the good luck the older Robin had. Must have been karma apologizing profusely for that whole 'murder' accident. And being the black sheep in their weird almost-family compiled of black sheep. Actually, life pretty much sucked for Jason, at least the small piece of it Tim witnessed. But he got good traffic times no matter what, never had a bad hair day, and always got to go on the coolest missions. And that was worth a lot.

Tim was content to be lost in thought, since the woman at the counter was eagerly chatting Jay up before their meal was ready. Apparently, he got corndogs for them as well.

"Girl gave them to me for free." He laughed.

That didn't surprise either of them. "You do know we have four hundred dollars combined, right?"

"And spend the big guy's money on something as wonderful as corndogs? No way." He stopped at the condiment counter, fetching them too many ketchup packets. Then he pushed the other corndog and soda into Tim's hands, heading through the echoing pavilion toward an empty seat. There must have been one somewhere. "You know he's just testing us. If we spend his money recklessly, who's gonna get his inheritance?"

"This isn't a test! You really think he would give us money as a-"

"Yes. I definitely think that." He laughed as he settled for a clean bench, wiping the food remains off the other side for Tim. Which made him roll his eyes in response. But of course he sat down as well.

He bit into the corndog, which was sweet and mushy on the outside and vaguely meaty on the inside. Which was just what he expected from the state fair. And what he also expected was it to be just as delicious as it was to him as a kid. And it was. Bless the creators of such a bizarre meal. It was perfect.

"It's not like this is King Lear, you know," Tim said in between blissful bites, his mouth full as he talked. "Even if he did judge us for what we bought, I highly doubt he would decide inheritance to whoever got him the best gift."

"Yeah, that _is_ a bit of a stretch..." Jay sipped his soda thoughtfully. "He would be more interested in who spends the money in the best way. Like donating. Or getting new gadgets."

It was fun to entertain his ideas. He was always the out-of-the-box one. That was usually why he was in trouble all the time. But it was interesting to hear his thought process. Perhaps he could keep notes for scientists or something. Abnormal psychology, all that. "We're not going to find any of those there. And why do you think you would get the inheritance anyway?"

"Because I'm the favorite?"

"No you aren't. Clearly I'm following his footsteps the best, so I'm the favorite."

He looked offended at the very idea. "Do you think he _enjoys_ being around people like him? I mean, have you _been_ around him? He's awful. All cranky and vengeance-y. And the difficult children always become the favorites. Science can prove that."

"No, that's actually-"

"Point being," he ripped a ketchup packet between his teeth, pouring it all out on a napkin, "I'm the favorite."

"Yeah, yeah, and I'm the swan queen."

"You have enough feathers in your cape that I could believe that." He smirked over at Tim before dipping his fries into the ketchup pile.

He wasn't going to grace that with a response. "If anyone is the favorite, it's Dick. I mean, he is the golden boy, right? And if even _you_ like him, then..."

After deciding the ketchup was suitable, he stabbed it with his corndog. "Hm. I do tolerate him more than necessary, don't I?"

Tim nodded.

He bit the corndog, before slamming his fist down on the table. It was loud enough to make the people around them, groups of families and couples and even some weird loners, turn to see what happened. When it was nothing, they turned away, seemingly in a unison of disappointment. Jason dramatically pointed his finger at Tim, grinning.

"That's it, Timmy-boy. We're going to King Lear the _shit_ out of this."

"Did you even read-"

He smirked at that. "No, but _you_ did. We find the best way to spend this money and bam! We split the role of best bat brat. You in?"

What else was there to say? It sounded like a fun way to waste the afternoon at the fair. "Why the hell not."


	7. Sibling Bonding

Stephanie held the brat's hand in a death grip.

The entire ride was made to make talking impossible. Zooming up faster than should be legally possible, and then letting go and letting gravity to the rest. Every time she slowed enough to catch her breath, it would start up again before she had the chance to curse everything that Damian has ever even touched. She had done drops like this since she started the superhero business. But she never had been jerked up and down to such heights ever before. It was terrifying. She screamed loud enough to make Black Canary cover her ears.

Damian, on the other hand, was laughing hysterically the whole time. She squeezed his hand, hard, kind of hoping to break something.

Could they die on that death-trap? The bar was tightly secured, which meant there was no escape, but also that they wouldn't fall loose. Still, every creaking noise (which there were plenty of) absolutely terrified her. Each drop made her stomach fly up to her throat. She was ready to kill that little son of a-

The ride slowed to a stop.

She kept breathing, letting it slow and even out. The ride came to a complete stop, their feet solidly resting against the metal platform. Damian's laughter was even louder without the wind taking it away from him. The rest of the people were just as breathless and wild-eyed as Steph, laughing out of the adrenaline release.

"You totally fell for it!" He laughed harder. The blonde woman clicked a button, releasing the latches so they could push the lap bars up and get out.

As soon as she pushed away the lap bar, she turned and smacked the Robin. Not enough to really hurt him, just as a reaction from the anger. "You're such an ass! I swear I'm going to kill you!"

"No killing," he said, his eyes alight with entertainment. "Father would not approve of that, would he?"

She growled. He was going to give her a heart attack one of these days. But still, he was smiling. And that was a nice change of pace. Even if he was a maniac laughing at Steph's suffering. But he was acting like an obnoxious little brother, and that was something he never got to do. Which meant she could be the annoying big sister she always dreamed of becoming.

As soon as they were up out of their seats, she shakily walked away. Not waiting to check on him. He followed after her, of course. Probably wanted to laugh at her even more. But she would win this battle of wits with the one thing the little nerd didn't understand: emotions.

"You are such a girl, Brown!" He cackled away, trotting after her. "_Oh no, he must be scared, I'll hold his hand to make it better!_ Ha!"

When she didn't respond, he slowed down on his evil laughter. The kid was walking right into her trap. The next part was to seal his fate.

He was indignant at her lack of response. "It's no fun if you're going to be all quiet."

The two of them past the tilt-a-whirl and big swing. There were plenty of people in face paint around them, looking goofy and a little eerie. He still followed her, grumpy now that she ruined his fun.

Finally, she stopped in an empty space. She turned to him, willing herself to start crying. Her vision blurred and she flushed with the effort. In case his heartstrings hadn't been tugged yet, her lip quivered into a pout. She was an ugly crier, of course, but that only helped her case.

His expression faded from irritation to terror. His dark eyes grew to the size of CDs. He even stepped back a few steps. As if he could run away.

"S-stop crying, Brown! I did nothing to induce this!"

She sniffed loudly, wiping her nose with her wrist. "I-_hic_-was so _scared_! And you tricked me!"

"I did no such thing!"

"Yes, you did!" She turned away dramatically, letting out a loud sob. "You hurt me, Damian!"

He seemed even more terrified as he shakily said, "I-I was pulling a prank. Must you be so emotional?!"

Ha. Breaking point.

She faced him yet again, sniffling and continuing to cry. "It wasn't funny! And you better apologize for it!"

"What? You can't possibly-!" He scoffed before analyzing her expression. The tips of his ears were turning red as he stared at his shoes. "...I'm sorry, Brown. I didn't mean-"

The moment was too perfect. Who would have guessed the little assassin had a soul? And all it took was a little bit of sisterly crying to draw it out. Truly it was her god-given talent. Beyond the whole ass-kicking thing.

"Will you... eat some junk food with me?" She asked, her voice brokenly hopeful. Cassandra would die after hearing about this.

He nodded, surprised at the chance of redemption. Still, he played it cool. He ran his hand through his pointy hair and said, "Fine. But only if you stop crying."

"Thanks!" She laughed, wiping her eyes. "Good to know that trick works on you."

Before he could stop and take back what he said, she took his hand and dragged him forward, laughing. Oh, payback was sweet. And the deep-fried twinkies would be even sweeter.


End file.
